The Curious Incident of the Cat in the Nighttime
by medcat
Summary: Fluff. Dr. Watson rescues a kitten, and his fellow-lodger is displeased...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: this is from a plot bunny provided by endgegner07 and inspired by her illustration of Dr. Watson and cat in her LJ--check it out!

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As I walked home after a long and weary day, the rain that has been drizzling on and off for the majority of the afternoon was finally abating (much to my pleasure, I might add). When I approached the doorstep of 221B, I suddenly heard a pitiful mewling sound in the vicinity of my feet. Bending down to identify the source of the mewling, I saw a little scruffy drenched kitten looking at me imploringly, as only cats know how to look. Feeling sorry for the little creature, I picked it up and carried it inside. Neither Mrs. Hudson nor Holmes was anywhere to be seen. I was surprised until I remembered that Mrs. Hudson had left that morning to visit her sister for the weekend, and Holmes was doing some research in the British Museum reading room for yet another of those obscure monographs of his.

I found some old towels and rubbed the kitten dry. After pouring it some milk (which it lapped eagerly), and consuming a cup of tea myself, I sat down in my armchair and closed my eyes for a moment. The next thing I knew, I was awakened by a yelp of surprise. I opened my eyes to find that I must have drifted off as soon as I sat down, for it was a good two hours later, the cat was cuddled up sound asleep in my lap, and Sherlock Holmes was standing next to my armchair looking quite bewildered.

"Watson, what is _that_ on your lap?"

"I am certain, Holmes, that you will be able to deduce that for yourself."

"Please spare me your pitiful attempts at being humorous."

Our conversation must have awakened the kitten, which took this opportunity to growl at Holmes. He warily took a step back.

"Watson, if you would be so kind as to dispense with _that_--"

"I am sorry, Holmes," I snorted, "I cannot hear you over the frightening roaring of this feline monster."

"Watson, as I believe I've already stated, I am not amused. Now where on earth did you pick up this—creature—and what is it doing in our sitting room?"

"It's called a _cat_, Holmes, or, more accurately in this case, a _kitten_."

"Thank you, I _was_ aware of that fact," he retorted dryly. "You have not answered my question."

"It was sitting outside our front door, drenched and hungry—I could hardly leave it there with a clear conscience."

"Oh very well, I suppose it will have to sleep here tonight; my only hope is that it hasn't any fleas…"

I surreptitiously scratched at an itchy spot on the side of my calf.

"Watson, it hasn't any fleas, has it?!"

"I'm not sure, Holmes…"

"Oh no…you, a doctor, didn't think to check for that _before_ you rescued this confounded—_cat_?!"

"I'm a _doctor_, Holmes, not a veterinarian!"


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm not sure, Holmes…"

"All right…now we must determine how to rid this—_cat_—of fleas…or else we will know no peace for weeks because of constantly getting bitten…and I don't even want to imagine Mrs. Hudson's reaction once she returns from her visit…"

"Well, Mrs. Hudson has a wonderful book titled 'Enquire Within,' which contains advice on everything under the sun—from how to model in wax to how to make a jellied salad to how to write for publication. Surely it will have something on the subject."

Making a long arm, Holmes brought the book down from the shelf and started busily flipping through the index.

"Nothing useful in here, Watson."

"That is surprising…but wait, I see another household encyclopedia over here, let's see…nothing about a cat, but this would probably apply to a cat as easily as to a dog…

Should the dog become infested with fleas or other vermin, several _bucketfuls _of boiling water should be dashed into the kennel, to sluice it thoroughly, and, when dry, it should be painted over with turpentine or paraffin. The animal itself should have powdered sulphur well dredged and rubbed into its coat, which will usually eradicate insects powdered camphor will do the same. Another method much approved of, is a good washing with soap and warm water, followed by careful combing; or a little benzine introduced to the skin of the animal wherever the fleas congregate, will drive them out, and if it touches them, will kill them. Tobacco water has been often recommended, but should never be used, as it always makes the dog sick, and spoils the appearance of the coat. There will, however, he little trouble from vermin, if the kennel is made of resinous wood, and deal shavings are given for the bed. It is also worth remarking that the discovery of any such annoyance need not occasion the commotion in a household which it often does. It is to be removed, certainly ; but the species, both of fleas and lice, which infest the dog, will not live more than a few hours upon a human being, and, consequently, need not be dreaded.

"Well, Watson, since you rescued the cat, you will have to do the honors…have you any powdered sulfur or camphor in your medical bag?

"I have camphor, Holmes…but I will need your assistance."

"Oh, very well."

All I can say about the ensuing activity is that rubbing camphor into the coat of the cat is far more difficult than it sounds…but it did seem to eradicate the fleas, as we slept that night without being bitten.

Mrs. Hudson, however, was less than pleased about the ubiquitous aroma of camphor when she returned the next morning…but that is another story.


End file.
